In the matter of confidences, Smith was not a believer in spade-work. If they were offered to him, he was invariably sympathetic, but he never dug for them. That John had something on his mind was obvious, but he intended to allow him, if he wished to reveal it, to select his own time for the revelation. John, for his part, had no intention of sharing this particular trouble even with Smith. It was too new and intimate for discussion. It was only since his return to New York that the futility of his quest had really come home to him. In the belief of having at last escaped from Mervo he had been inclined to overlook obstacles. It had seemed to him, while he waited for his late subjects to dismiss him, that, once he could move, all would be simple. New York had dispelled that idea. Logically, he saw with perfect clearness, there was no reason why he and Betty should ever meet again. To retain a spark of hope beneath this knowledge was not easy and John, having been in New York now for nearly three weeks without any encouragement from the fates, was near the breaking point. A gray apathy had succeeded the frenzied restlessness of the first few days. The necessity for some kind of work that would to some extent occupy his mind was borne in upon him, and the thought of Smith had followed naturally. If anybody could supply distraction, it would be Smith. Faraday, another of the temporary exiles from the _News_, whom he had met by chance in Washington Square, had informed him of Smith's new position and of the renaissance of _Peaceful Moments_, and he had hurried to the office to present himself as an unskilled but willing volunteer to the cause. Inspection of the current number of the paper had convinced him that the _Peaceful Moments_ atmosphere, if it could not cure, would at least relieve. "Faraday told me all about what you had done to this paper," he said. "I came to see if you would let me in on it. I want work." "Excellent!" said Smith. "Consider yourself one of us." "I've never done any newspaper work, of course, but--" "Never!" cried Smith. "Is it so long since the dear old college days that you forget the _Gridiron?"_ In their last year at Harvard, Smith and John, assisted by others of a congenial spirit, had published a small but lively magazine devoted to college topics, with such success--from one point of view--that on the appearance of the third number it was suppressed by the authorities.